


Part of the Family

by LeapAngstily



Series: December Footie Fanfic Giveaway [2]
Category: Football RPF
Genre: Christmas, Established Relationship, Extra gift because I'm easy like that, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-04
Updated: 2014-12-04
Packaged: 2018-02-28 02:04:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2714936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeapAngstily/pseuds/LeapAngstily
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bobo is invited to the Inzaghi family dinner. Pippo is not impressed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Part of the Family

**Author's Note:**

> Written for my [December Footie Fanfic Giveaway](http://montosmadman.tumblr.com/post/104190423597). (Please do take a look if you’re experiencing acute fic needs.)

“For the last time: you’re  _not_  coming over to my parents’ house for Christmas!” Pippo scoffs at his phone, glaring at Bobo’s face beaming back at him through the screen.  
  
“But your mom invited me, and I had no plans for Christmas dinner anyways – you know I could never say no to her,” Bobo is grinning from ear to ear, not even trying to pretend he is not happy about this turn of events.  
  
He has always enjoyed torturing Pippo.  
  
“Then start  _making plans_ ,” Pippo hisses at him, trying to bring out his most commanding tone, the same one he uses when there are problems in the locker rooms at Milanello, “My whole family’s gonna be there, and I get enough pain from them about my love life without having you there to add fuel to the flames.”  
  
“You know they’d stop if you just told them the truth, right?”  
  
Pippo considers hanging up the call, because this is a topic that comes up in their conversations again and again, and he knows they will never come to an agreement about it.  
  
“No Bobo— then they’d start inviting you over for dinner even on normal weekends. And then there’d be  _questions_  and  _talks_ , and before we knew it they’d start expecting us to have a fucking  _family_.”  
  
“You make it sound like it’d be the end of the world,” Bobo teases him, but the playful smile on his face reveals he is not insulted in the least, “Having an accepting family is  _good_ , Pippo dear. I wouldn’t mind being a part of that.”  
  
“You wouldn’t say that if you knew my family,” Pippo mumbles under his breath, more to himself than to the phone, but Bobo hears him anyways.  
  
“I’ve met your whole extended family already – it’s nothing I can’t handle,” Bobo is talking slowly now, like to a child, “And I’m not going to tell them anything before you’re ready for it, so there’s no need to hide me from them. It’ll be just like all the other times.”  
  
“But I hate sharing you,” Pippo argues defiantly, and there it is, the actual reason for his reluctance to have Bobo at their family’s traditional Christmas feast, “I barely even see you nowadays, and I don’t want it to be with my family, where I need to be so careful around you.”  
  
Bobo is quiet for a long time, obviously considering Pippo’s words, his features softening into a loving smile as he finally answers, “I could catch an earlier flight to Italy. Let’s take a few days just for ourselves before Christmas, and then we’ll see what we’re gonna do with the dinner.”  
  
“Weren’t you supposed to go to your family first?” Pippo asks in a defeated tone, because he knows there is no way he will be able to change Bobo’s mind now – not that he wants to, if he is being completely honest with himself.  
  
“You  _are_  my family, Pippo,” Bobo’s words may have caused a slight flutter in Pippo’s chest, but he is never going to admit it, “You think a little distance would change that?”  
  
Pippo wants to remind him that having an ocean between them probably does not count as a ‘little distance’, but he holds his tongue.  
  
“Fine, but you’re still not coming to the feast,” he tells Bobo instead, and now he can feel a smile tugging on his own lips as well, “I know you: you just wanna pig out on my mom’s cooking. Don’t think I haven’t noticed you’ve been getting fat lately.”  
  
“Better than being swept off by the wind,” Bobo grins, the corners of his eyes wrinkling, “And I know you prefer me a bit softer, so stop complaining, will you?”  
  
“Keep telling yourself that,” Pippo advises him solemnly as he glances at the clock, “Training’s starting. Call me when you know your flight schedule, okay?”  
  
“Love you too,” Bobo coos at him, but Pippo only rolls his eyes and cuts off the connection.  
  
A quick look at the calendar and then he is out of his office, heading to the training pitches for the last week of football before the Christmas break.


End file.
